prices we pay
by TakeneNe
Summary: Of life, death, treason and forgiveness, not necessarily in that order.


**Disclaimer: Bleach does not belong to me.**

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**prices we pay**

_There is an 'if' in every life_

Curved blades – your blades – shoved deeply into the throat of a wicked creature finally do their job and grotesque facade of a Hollow shatters into million dissolving pieces. Outraged madness is calming down and the vain ecstasy, so full of hatred, is no more. Suddenly there's a man at your feet again, wounded and not disabled, but alive and _real._ A man with tears in his eyes that were always empty before and with genuine regret in his breaking voice. Man that finally understood how wrong were his doings and who, once faced with failure, desperately wants to go back to the light. The one you so hopelessly wanted back. Whom everyone missed.

He reaches for you with a trembling hand and you catch it with equally trembling fingers just to press it to your face and kiss the rough, bloodied palm. It means a lot, the gesture – the only time he can really _see_ you, not just with his touch. It feels like the nightmare has ended. Like there is no more fear of the future, cold and empty, nor the nights, filled with void, that was hunting you restless. There's only hope for the better unfolding before you and a spark of happiness sprouting in your heart.

You close your eyes just for a second to bask in the unexpected wonder of this moment, and it's enough for a sharp, sudden, _terrifying_ whizz of an attack to hit. And then there's nothing left anymore.

'_ex' in next_

You stand at the Sōkyoku hill not quite believing in the sight before your eyes. Here's your mentor, your guide, your _goddamned __**lover**__,_ that you were restraining with a blade at his throat just a second ago, standing in the golden blaze of treachery, carried into the hollow world by enemy's powers. You're still standing, even though this _skewed_ reality starts to tremble in your vision and the sense of betrayal grows brutally in your chest, with every passing moment chewing at the rage you've been burning with so far. _treason._ TREA-SON. He betrayed all of you in the vilest possible manner, shredding his beloved ideals along the way like a mare layer of filth, unworthy in the presence of this new, great madness. But that's not what hurts the most. The worst crime he committed is _personal._ Because even though you should fall to your knees with helpless fury, resigned looking as your captain becomes an outlaw, you _see._ You can see the fleeting glances Aizen throws his way and tiny smiles only curling at the corners of lips that _he_ gives back. You can see them all despite being further and further away as they ascend out of your reach, despite the dirt and the dust from the ground ripped open swirling tightly in the air. He betrayed _you._ He left you to face this upcoming war, his war, alone, and the thought it wasn't only that, that he also lay with that—

You look away, suddenly disgusted, and start walking back to the quarters. They try to stop you, to keep you in place but you just _can't_ and you stumble forward with head held high. You just lost something precious and you can't let them see your pain. Because for you, Kaname Tousen just died.

'_over' in lover_

You lie tangled together like a one body, one soul, and the sheets are still warm from your passion. You don't know if he's asleep yet, or – just like you – still basking in the bliss of afterglow, but you can feel his calm, steady breath on your shoulder and you know that everything is delightedly, perfectly in order. You look at the moon, so big and bright tonight, and you can't stop thinking how lucky you are. You have everything – strength, support and this one, precious person that makes you feel invincible.

The stars twinkle oddly playfully in the sky and you let their dance take you along. The dance of memories, touches and sensations… the dance of tongues, of moans and choked pleas. Pictures of the last hour come back to you one by one, taking your breath and igniting your senses. Making you want _more._ Growing desire leads you to abandon the comfortable position in his arms, to kiss a delicate path on his neck and shoulders. To touch, not yet hastily, wherever you can reach naked skin and to leave a hungry kiss on his parted lips. When he opens his eyes and brings you closer, you can do nothing but smile.

You laugh when he finally touches you too, and you have no idea this is your _last_ shared night.

'_end' in friend_

You walk together through one of the less attended streets of Seireitei in silence that tastes oddly electric and seems to never leave you alone. It doesn't feel wrong, though — on the contrary, your captain seems to be quite pleased today and so you feel at ease, too. You never expect him to suddenly stop in a narrow passage and block your way with his own body. You're confused and not sure if you should prepare to fight for your life or make a joke of it. But the moment quickly passes; he snaps forward and kisses you in a way that takes your breath away.

You're paralyzed. You look at the lips that just a second ago left your own and you can't believe the day has come when _you_ and _he_ became _us._ That the friendship, maintained and nourished for years, just died, replaced by something deeper and _better._ That what you've been waiting for for years, not even in the wildest dreams hoping would actually come true _happened._ You try desperately to stay calm, to keep trembling and a stupid, stupid smile threatening to break onto your face at bay, but to no avail. You're happy. Just happy, in a way only a person that just received the most precious gift can be. And you know – instantly and without a shadow of doubt – that he feels the same. That he feels the exact same way as you do.

'_us' in trust_

You trust him. You trust him more than you should, more than you'll ever trust yourself. You trust, when smiling gently he offers you a hand for the first time, and when he does so again, pulling you up from your fall. Trust, when he's around more and gets closer, when he engrosses you with his personality and when you cannot imagine your life bursting with the presence of any other. Trust, when he makes you his lieutenant, when he becomes a _friend_ and takes responsibility for your training. You put your faith in his decisions, his philosophy and you trust that he leads you forward on the one righteous path. The path of justice. Standing at his side – no matter if hidden or on full display – you always feel that this is your place. That it always has been. You just… trust _him._ You trust him and know that he trusts you all the same, leaving his life and reputation in your hands when you guard his back during fights.

And that's why it's wonderful; that he created a place in his life just for you, a place you can always come back to. A place for a warrior, for co-worker, for someone important. Your own place in this hurrying world, that makes you sure that – no matter what – you can look to the future with peace. And trust.

_and 'lie' in believe._

You're crying. You can no longer stand the burden you are supposed to carry along with your sword; burden of death, weighting on your still young shoulders and the cold, cold breath at the nape of your neck, wheezing louder with every wound you deal. You're crying after everything you will be forced to do and everything you will lose, that you've lost already, when you took the path with no return. You're crying over your own weakness and helplessness, to great to persevere. And then there's him. With all his poise and equanimity, saying that there is nothing wrong with being afraid. That unworthy of the blade is who does not fear its power. You want to _believe_ him _so much._ You crave relief badly enough to do just about anything to never have to face this dread ever again. So you cling to his composure and a promise of inner peace like a drowning man would clutch a straw. So you take his offered hand and let him guide you, let his words become yours. You make his philosophy your own, and even though you're still convincing yourself that it is _true,_ you do not waver on your road. You walk valiant ahead, not once looking back. Not anymore.

_But there's just 'love' in love._

In the midst of all of that, with heartbreak and bitter taste of such a cruel betrayal, aware of all the evil that's been dealt with those hands, you can't hold back a scream. Your guts twist in spasms of the blackest despair, pulling to rip apart, to destroy you into thousands little glowing specs, anything to just escape the pain. The horror of losing this one, precious person. You don't do anything, though. The only thing you _can_ do is scream, frozen in place. Scream tearing your throat raw open while you look at the blood, splashed everywhere, that was still flowing through _his_ veins a minute ago.

Seconds turn into eternity but the moment passes like a breath and your veins burst with fire. With blazing need for revenge and the howling, heated grief. You straighten up slowly, very slowly, with only the scraps of your will maintaining the pretence of composure. You reach for your sword, abandoned thoughtlessly in the moment of hope and with a stone-cold mask that your face has become, turn to the enemy. You can see careless dismissal in his alien eyes when he looks at you, and the way his deceitful lips curl into triumphant grins as he radiates pure smugness. You can see. You can feel the insult with all of your being and you want nothing more than to _destroy him, crush him, obliterate him_ so that he'd finally pay for everything—

Then you rage forward blindly, to slay the man who tore your heart out.

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**A/N:** Just to be safe, this is a translation of an old work of an even older friend of mine, but it will remain unlinked because they do not fandom-create anymore and wish to remain unaffiliated and anonymous.

Come find me on tumble _at_ takenene!

Cross-posted on AO3


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